


A Little Knowledge

by Iztarshi (khilari)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Martin asks a question a little too forcefully, mostly fluffy, saving Peter by messing up his plans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khilari/pseuds/Iztarshi
Summary: Martin takes a breath, feeling overwhelmingly frustrated over being out of the loop about his own life, traded back and forth between avatars in whatever sort of power play this was. ”What does Elias want?”“He wants to end the world, bring all the entities through and rule over the result. Which is what gives me leverage, since he needs me to scare your crush, but he’s not on my side here.” Peter freezes, eyes meeting Martin’s like a deer in the headlights.An accidental compulsion from Martin sets everyone's plans awry. Peter just wants to hide from the consequences, while Elias has to set things in motion far earlier than intended.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 42
Kudos: 185





	1. Chapter 1

Resolving workplace disputes is not something Martin enjoys, especially when one of the people involved is incompetent and belligerent enough for him to start sympathising with Peter’s preferred solution. People working for the Institute have reason to get belligerent, he supposes, but the _academic staff_ don’t _know_ that, so his sympathy is limited.

“Well done!” Peter says, cheerfully, having been lurking invisibly and being no help at all.

Martin sighs. “I get why you want some people gone, but can’t you just, y’know, _fire_ them.”

“Goodness no! They’re contractually bound to Elias, after all. No, the most we can do is manage them, which you have quite a talent for by the way.”

“So… you can’t fire them, but vanishing them is fine?”

“Elias did give me permission for that,” Peter says. “A good thing too, otherwise I’d have no way to deal with them at all. He’s usually more protective of his staff but I suppose he realised that.”

“ _Peter._ Getting rid of people is not the only way to deal with them. You just _watched_ me…”

“Yes, and I’m very glad to have you! Never had much talent for conflict resolution myself.”

Martin rubs his eyes and tries to be shocked that Elias not only left Peter in charge but gave him explicit permission to disappear the staff. He fails, of course, but it is a bit weird. Elias likes things neat, predictable and organised, presumably he’s not looking forward to coming back and finding random members of staff gone because they tried to argue with Peter. Besides, Peter can’t, well, manage. He can _talk_ like a manager but Martin still hasn’t convinced him to learn how to use a spreadsheet.

“I don’t get why Elias left you in charge of this place,” Martin says.

“Oh, well, I don’t think I’m doing that badly, and he did leave you to help me.”

“With the Extinction too?” Martin says drily.

“Naturally.”

“Why not just _tell_ me to help you, then? Do you know I went to see him and he just said ‘sounds like you have a decision to make’. Why do you need to run the Institute if it’s just about _me?_ ” Martin takes a breath, feeling overwhelmingly frustrated over being out of the loop about his own life, traded back and forth between avatars in whatever sort of power play this was. _”What does Elias want?”_

“He wants to end the world, bring all the entities through and rule over the result. Which is what gives me leverage, since he needs me to scare your crush, but he’s not on my side here.” Peter freezes, eyes meeting Martin’s like a deer in the headlights.

“What?” Martin splutters. “What about… _what about Jon?_ ”

But he’s talking to mist and emptiness, Peter is gone before the end of the question.

Martin doesn’t know how he follows, he just knows he needs to… needs to find out, for Jon’s sake. Whatever Elias is doing he’s doing it to Jon, Martin needs to _know_ and he’s got used to fading by now. It’s harder to go into the Lonely itself, harder still to follow someone else in, but he catches onto the wisps of Peter’s passage and he’s in. The Lonely is fog, endless, clinging and grey, the sound of the sea in the background both monotonous and oddly reassuring.

“Peter!” Martin yells. “ _Peter!_ ”

“Go away.” The voice is hollow, echoing, coming from all directions and impossible to follow. “Leave me alone.”

Martin realises that he can’t, that he doesn’t know how to leave this endless empty place, but the panic that should have come feels muffled. He’s so tired. It’s peaceful here, calm. Does anything _really_ matter in the end? Especially anything _he_ could do. He shakes himself. For Jon. For Jon.

“Tell me what’s going to happen to Jon!”

“No!” Peter’s voice is petulant, even the echo effect unable to hide the childishness, the helpless anger.

Martin takes a breath, feeling it hit his lungs wet and cold. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m not a fool.” Peter’s voice has regained a bit of self-assurance, almost amusement. “And I know how Beholding works.”

“I’m not —” Martin isn’t Beholding, except the way everyone in the Institute is. How had Peter put it? Contractually bound to Elias? But Martin isn’t like Jon, he doesn’t have any special powers. Except. “I-I made you answer me. About Elias. I didn’t know I could do that.” Peter’s scared, hiding away from him in this fog like a wounded animal, and Martin can’t afford sympathy for him. He needs information by any means necessary, but mostly he needs to convince Peter to talk. “I won’t do it again,” he says.

“No,” says Peter, words drifting and echoing emptily. “You won’t.”

Martin sits down, on a surface that feels like sand, and closes his eyes. He holds his hands in his lap, palms open. It’s not a position that makes Martin feel very safe, his head hurts with how hard his ears are straining, or maybe that’s the tension building at the base of his skull prickling with the fear that something is watching him. He breathes deeply and reminds himself that Peter being able to see him doing this would be a good thing. “All right,” he says, when he’s sure he won’t sound like he’s panicking. “I’m not looking for you. So talk to me. We still need to save the world, don’t we?”

“That’s over,” Peter says bleakly. “He’ll say I’ve broken the terms of the bet, telling you, or that he’s won.”

“A bet,” Martin says. “On me?”

“On you.” Peter sighs. “I really thought I was winning.”

“Maybe,” Martin allows. “I hadn’t decided.” He takes another breath. There’s something safe and soft about this place, a dazed sleepy feeling. It reminds him of something he’d heard about hypothermia, that it’s one of the more pleasant ways to die. “He can’t just _say_ you’ve lost, though. He needed you to do something to Jon, didn’t he?” Don’t get angry, Martin tells himself. Think of it like befriending a stray dog. Don’t think about what Peter was meant to do to Jon, what he would have done to Jon. “Can’t you just not do it?”

Peter laughs, a bitter chuckle. “Maybe,” he says. “But you’re here, and Elias already knows. Did you leave the door open?”

* * *

Jon’s phone rings and when he picks it up he hears Elias’ voice sounding unusually harried. “Jon, Martin’s in danger,” he says. “Peter’s taken him into the Lonely.”

“He’s what? How? When?” Jon’s hands are cold but they’re not shaking. It’s not right, it’s not fair, Martin had a plan. Jon’s been trusting him, been accepting that, was that the wrong thing to do after all? Has he just been leaving Martin in danger all this time?

“Corridor outside the library,” Elias says. Jon can hear traffic in the background. “Peter seems to have lost patience and acted on impulse.”

“Why did you leave him in charge in —” Jon’s already jogging through the corridors, phone still against his ear.

“Jon, there’s no time. I’m on my way, but the Lonely is a death sentence.”

Jon takes a frustrated breath. “Fine, I-I’m there”. The corridor outside the library seems the same as ever. Colder, maybe, or maybe he’s imagining it. “What do I do? Am I meant to follow him in?”

“Do you _want_ to follow him in, Jon?”

God, he’s scared. He doesn’t want to go into the Lonely, but without Martin it will be lonely enough out here to make no difference. “Yes.”

“Feel it, then. Sense the traces left behind.”

It is colder, maybe not physically, but to some other sense. He can find it, the path Martin took, like trampled snow in a bank. “I think this is it,” he says. He steps forward.

It’s awful, he can’t see in this fog, he can’t See, and he can’t feel. He remembers the coffin. Takes a step forward anyway. “Martin!” he shouts.

A warm body collides with him and arms wrap around him and Jon finds himself with his face buried against Martin’s collarbone. “ _Jon,_ ” Martin says, almost a sob. “Don’t be scared, it’s important, you mustn’t… are you scared?”

“Not now.”

Martin makes a sound between a sob and a laugh and tips Jon’s face up to look at him, “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too.” Jon tentatively hugs Martin back. “I’ve missed you. Elias said Peter had dragged you into the Lonely, I was so scared.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, that was… he didn’t, actually. I followed him in because he said something about what Elias was up to and I wanted answers. It was stupid, sorry.”

Jon might feel more inclined to blame Martin for anything at all if he wasn’t being held by him. For now he just mutters, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t do it again, but it’s fine, it’s okay.” He stands up a little bit, pulling away as far as he can without losing Martin’s warmth. “Where _is_ Peter?”

Martin pulls a face. “I don’t know. We’ve been talking, but I can’t find him in here.”

Jon sweeps his eyes over the mist, finds the place that is simultaneously the least empty and the emptiest. “I can,” he says. “Let’s get those answers.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Jon, Jon, wait,” Martin’s tugging on Jon’s sleeve, not entirely sure why he’s trying to prevent this. God knows he wants to get some answers out of Peter too. “I already made him answer me today, that’s why he went in here, come on. He told me Elias would send you in when I couldn’t even find him.”

“So, what?” Jon says, contemptuous enough to make Martin flinch even though it’s not directed at him. “He’s on _our side_ now?”

“I’m on my side, Archivist.” Peter’s voice still echoes, but it sounds subdued. “But I would rather the world didn’t end.”

“Is that what Elias is trying to do? End the world?” Jon asks, his gaze is fixed ahead of them like an owl watching a mouse. Or, or maybe an owl watching a weasel, Martin thinks frantically. A smaller predator, not prey, but still.

Martin breaks in, “Yes, he is, he wants to bring all fourteen entities through. I still don’t know exactly how, something about Peter scaring you.”

Jon looks blank and then horrified, his hand going up to ghost over the worm scars on his cheeks. “All fourteen,” he says, faintly. “Is it-is it too late?”

“I don’t know,” Peter says. “You could tear me apart to find out, but I don’t have any more information. Maybe this wasn’t enough to count as, what did Elias call it? A scar? Maybe there’s something more to it that he still needs to do. Or maybe you step out there and it all ends.”

Jon swallows. “I see.”

“Jon, _no_ ,” Martin says. “No one’s dying in here.” He wraps his arms around Jon, holding him tight. They’re both shaking. “Peter, get us out of here.” There’s no answer. “ _Peter,_ ” he snaps. “Get us out of here while it still might not count or I will find you and _make you_.”

It’s an empty threat. The most he’s been able to do is compel Peter when he was off guard, but maybe he can bluff.

“A bargain,” Peter says, softly. “He doesn’t hurt me and I’ll get you out.”

“All right,” says Martin, aware that he’s promising for Jon, and also aware that Jon won’t promise anything that would save Peter _or himself_ right now. “I promise.”

The mist parts and they’re standing in the road outside the insitute. Peter’s standing nearby, his expression back to its normal empty cheerfulness. “Elias is inside,” he says. “Come on, this way.”

* * *

Jon feels like he should have objected somewhere in there. He hadn’t thought Peter would accept Martin’s word for it, he’d thought… he’d thought it would be like the coffin, in the end. Peter’s leading them through London with a confidence Jon doesn’t trust at all. But the world hasn’t ended yet.

“Where are we going?” Jon asks, sharply.

“We’re getting a taxi to London Gateway,” Peter answers.

London Gateway. Deep sea docking for container ships, surprisingly close to London, where the _Tundra_ is waiting on Peter’s call.

“Isn’t Elias going to guess where we are if we’re on your ship?” Jon asks.

“Elias doesn’t need to guess, he’s watching us, but he still needs a boat to cross water.” Peter shivers. “Stop asking questions.”

Jon snorts. “And trust you?”

“Not necessarily, but at least stop compelling me. Martin promised.”

Which implies Jon is hurting him which is… possible, actually. He remembers Breekon. It’s not as if he knows the specific vulnerabilities of Lonely avatars. “I’m not trying to,” he mutters.

Peter shrugs.

“Taxi,” Martins says.

To Jon’s disbelief Peter hails it by waving a wad of cash at it. It’s at least effective, since it gets them in and moving towards the London Gateway _quickly_. Peter takes the front seat while Jon sits with Martin in the back. He’s not sure what exactly what their relationship is right now, whether it’s okay to touch or whether they should act like this is a normal car ride. He tries leaning slightly on Martin and is immediately engulfed in a hug that nearly makes him burst into tears.

“Sorry,” Martin says, apparently catching that but not why, and Jon has to pull him back when he tries to disengage.

“Don’t,” Jon says, keeping his voice quiet and hoping Peter and the driver won’t hear. “Just-just stay with me.”

Martin buries his face in Jon’s hair and whispers. “You stay with me too. Please. I know this is scary, but please, don’t…”

Jon swallows. He _ought_ to die. If it’s him or the world he almost _has_ to die. But he doesn’t want to die. It’s such a terrible relief to have someone else _also_ not want him to die, even if it puts the world at risk, even if it makes their life terribly difficult, even if he’s not worth what he puts them through. “I’ll stay,” he says. “Thank you, Martin.”

* * *

Jon falls asleep on Martin’s shoulder before they reach London Gateway, which is a shame because the journey’s nowhere near long enough for him to get any rest.

“You two are disgustingly sappy,” Peter says while he pays the driver.

“We don’t need commentary,” Martin retorts, shaking Jon’s shoulder. “Especially not from you. The Lonely can’t even handle…” He glares at Peter. “You _couldn’t_ have kept us there. That’s why you bargained so quickly.”

Peter chuckles and opens Martin’s door making Jon jolt awake wide-eyed. Martin pats Jon’s shoulder and watches him reorient himself.

“Come on,” Peter says. “The sooner we’re at sea the better.”

Peter walks through the docks without asking anyone for directions and speeds up unconsciously as he goes, like someone heading for home after a long time away.

The _Tundra_ itself is a disappointingly ordinary container ship, although Martin supposes that’s the point. No one signs up on a weird ghost ship on purpose. The gangplank is down when they reach it and a man with a dark beard welcomes them aboard with. “Captain. New hands?”

“No,” Peter says. “Guests. Give them a cabin.”

Then he just walks away.

Martin sighs. “Well,” he says. “We may as well get some sleep.”


End file.
